A signature moment with the doctor for Johnny Cash

Hynes is the Guelph man who scored incredible autograph finds recently at the annual Friends of the Guelph Public Library Giant Used Books Sale. In a short spell, and for just a few dollars, he uncovered a King Clancy signature in a book about the Toronto Maple Leafs from 1980, and a Leslie Nielsen biography signed by the late actor. Hynes’s biggest find of them all, though, was in a copy of June Carter Cash’s From the Heart, where he came across autographs for the author and for her country music legend-husband, Johnny Cash.

He figures the Johnny Cash autograph—one of about 1,500 celebrity autographs he has gathered in the past 20 years—is worth somewhere in the range of $2,500. That’s low for a Tut trove treasure. But it’s nothing to sneeze at.

Hynes’s Cash jackpot spurred me to recall a time when my friends and I believed we were in possession of autographs from the Man in Black too—seemingly a good supply of them.

We were just kids and had obtained the signatures on blank prescription pad slips from my father’s medical practice.

I’m not sure how Dad had come to accidentally disclose he was to have the famous singer as a patient. But in an era without social media, that news still flew from and via his children to well beyond our household. Cash was one of those huge 1970s celebrities. I wouldn’t have been more excited if he was seeing Evel Knievel, or Elvis or Muhammad Ali.

This was big. But in Sudbury, this was BIG.

My father semi-routinely had the opportunity to treat significant touring music stars because he was for years the only ear-nose-throat specialist in Northeastern Ontario. If a crooner or songbird had a sore throat and they were in that part of Canada, all referral roads led to Dr. Andrews.

Over the years, Dad also saw as patients Chubby Checker and Nana Mouskouri, among others. I know he also saw additional music-world stars he never identified who he felt had only connected with him in the hopes of landing prescription drugs to abuse. The ones after “dope,” as Dad called it, wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with him.

The ones after medical care would have gotten the best and not because of who they were. Dad had little time for and no interest in popular culture—though Lawrence Welk might have been extra-warmly received had he appeared in Dad’s examining room. Dad treated all his patients the same. In the case of some of these big-time singers, I think that meant the Sudbury doctor cut short their tours for medical reasons.

I don’t recall whether Cash had concert dates cancelled after seeing Dad. But I remember putting a lot of heat on Dad for a Cash autograph before he was to meet with him.

I and some friends, along with some of my siblings and friends of theirs, were waiting in our driveway for my father to come home from work after seeing Cash. When he arrived we descended on him for details and more. He indicated he had something for us. We just had to let him get inside.

In short order, a few Cash autographs appeared on his prescription slips. We were elated, though one of my friends was crushed not to have one. Then, shortly, one was produced for that friend too.

All were in Dad’s handwriting. He had never asked Cash for a signature and never would have done such a thing.

Perhaps I’ll connect with Hynes to see what a poorly forged Cash signature might be worth—or several of them.

Phil Andrews is managing editor of the Guelph Mercury. His column appears Saturdays. He can be reached at 519-823-6050 or pandrews@guelphmercury.com